Kissing
by Viceroy Elf
Summary: Love is confusing when you're young, and for every question answered, a million more are raised. Still, you find time for simplicity.


**This is gross don't read it**

Kissing

Twelve year-old Dipper Pines, like many growing boys, didn't quite understand relationships. Not being the most extroverted person, he had little opportunity to view people in relationships, and wasn't in any position to start one of his own, much to his chagrin.

Still, he picked up what he could in books and tv shows and cheesy movies, and even though he knew it wasn't the best example, he figured he had a general idea of what a romantic relationship encompassed. And though he was still confused about numerous things, one thing that was always at the forefront of his thoughts was kissing.

The thought of kissing a girl made his cheeks burn and his thoughts cloudy. The intimacy the act entailed made his heart beat faster. But at the same time, he couldn't help but think "what's the big deal?"

It was after all, just standing with someone, connected at the mouth. No talking, no thinking. He understood it as an intimate sort of greeting. But he'd heard and read about people doing for absurd periods of time, hours even.

And even though this all sounded sound and logical in his mind, it still made his face turn red and his heart beat faster than he was comfortable. What was the appeal kissing for so long?

Of course, time passes, people change. And somehow, while facing various encounters with abominations of super science, supernatural horrors, and terrifying beasts of unknown origin, he managed to learn just a few things about girls.

Which brings us to now, where Dipper, a young man of 16, lay across the couch in the Mystery Shack in the middle of the day. His sleep is interrupted, however, and as his eyes open, he can make out the image of a person looking down on him.

"If you're here to kill me, could you gimme five more minutes?"

"'Fraid not, Dipper. I'm not known for my patience."

The voice was familiar, and he smiled at the sound. His vision cleared and he was greeted by the sight of Pacifica Northwest.

Dipper's Girlfriend.

The word still sounded funny to him, as though it were in some foreign language. It's strange, at least to him, that years of exchanges of smug banter would lead to the kind of emotional connection and sense of respect that he'd not had with anyone before, save for his family.

Dipper sat up and Pacifica took a seat close to him. He vaguely recalls inviting her over to hang out as it was the first day of her parents' week long 'business trip' to what Pacifica could only describe as somewhere you'd have to be a legal adult to have fun.

He hadn't planned on passing out on the couch beforehand, however. Dipper sways slightly in his tired state and Pacifica runs a hand through his hair. "You okay, or should I come back in an hour?"

He yawns. "No no, I'm good. Sorry, wasn't planning on passing out like that. Mabel was sitting with me last a I remember. Where'd she go?"

"Given the sounds coming from the kitchen, I'd say she got caught up making more hippie shirts."

"I heard that!" called Mabel.

"Stan's not gonna like the kitchen looking like the close lines at Woodstock! You'd better be keeping things clean!"

"Don't pay any mind to what I'm doing in here! Pay attention to your girlfriend!"

Mabel's reply was followed by the unmistakable sound of a bottle of fabric dye being knocked over. "I can fix that!"

Dipper and Pacifica laughed quietly so as not to further incite Mabel.

"I take it you were up late again?" Pacifica asks.

"There were some old papers I wanted…"

Pacifica's expression implied she wasn't interested in his reasons. "We talked about this Dipper. You're not getting enough sleep, and you're starting to pass out in the day. That's not healthy."

Dipper's head hung slightly. "I know."

Pacifica smiled at him. "It's okay. Baby steps. In the meantime, I got you this." She said, reaching to a box on the table containing two small lidded cups.

"Coffee? Is that a good idea?"

"It's early enough, and yours is small, so it'll keep you from passing out for the rest of the day, and you'll be ready to sleep at a reasonable hour tonight."

"If you say so." He said, taking a sip of coffee. It was cool enough to drink, and it tasted good. He leaned back on the couch, placing an arm over Pacifica's shoulders.

"So, what was it that was so captivating last night?" she asked.

"Documents from south America about something big and monstrous. I was reviewing them to see if they were bogus."

"And…?"

"I fell asleep on my notes."

Pacifica tried and failed to stifle a laugh and Dipper blushed, but laughed a little as well.

"You're a mess, Dipper." She said.

"Like you aren't."

Pacifica leaned into Dipper's chest, and his heartbeat sped up just slightly. Her presence was always a comfort it seemed. He tried to bring his eyes to the television, but noticed Pacifica was looking at him.

"You're not paying attention to the tv, are you?" he asks.

"Nope."

She was usually the first to initiate.

A moment's pass and their lips were pressed together.

And in stark contrast of his woes of confusion from those days of pre-adolescence, Dipper had a very clear understanding of how kissing could be so time consuming.

It was all consuming, really. As if she comprised all of reality. Everything he could hear or see or smell was replaced with…

 _Her_

Her arms were around his neck, one of her hands tangled in his hair, the other gently gripping his shoulder. The two fall into lying position on the couch.

He pinches her side, and she gasps and giggles. The sound runs through his body like a current, and she tugs at his hair a little harder.

Its strange to him to think one of his concerns used to be how there was no thinking involved in kissing, as now it was something he enjoyed about it most. No questions to answer, no mysteries. There was something so absolute in the act. He just let his mind drift as their bodies connected. Nothing but soft laughs, gentle caresses, and his lips against hers.

"Augh! Get a room!"

The two broke apart at the sound of Mabel's intrusion. They weren't sure how long they'd been kissing, but the credits were playing on the television for a show that definitely wasn't on earlier.

Mabel came in from the kitchen carrying 10-15 tie-dyed shirts, herself covered in a healthy dose of dye herself. "You two gotta learn to be more aware of your surroundings." She said, leaving a trail of dye through on the living room floor.

"Grunkle Stan's gonna flip when he sees the kitchen." Dipper said, in spite of the bright blush across her face. "But I guess she has a point. We can get pretty distracted."

"Fair enough." Pacifica replies, grinning through red cheeks of her own. "Notwithstanding the times she barged in on us on purpose."

Dipper laughed. "Even so."

"Hey." Pacifica said. "Look at our lives. My parents. Your… hobbies. I think we could use the distraction. Besides." She looked away almost bashfully. "I really like kissing you."

Dipper grew even redder. "I-I…. the, uh, the feeling's mutual." He stammered, thankful his voice didn't crack.

Pacifica giggled. "It'd better be."

And once again, she pounced.

Ah, young love. Nauseating, isn't it?


End file.
